Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (classic novels .TXT) 📕

‘Hark ye, Mr. Fairford,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘I must here interrupt you for your own sake. One word of betraying what you may have seen, or what you may have suspected, and your seclusion is like to have either a very distant or a very brief termination; in either case a most undesirable one. At present, you are sure of being at liberty in a very few days—perhaps much sooner.’

‘And my friend,’ said Alan Fairford, ‘for whose sake I have run myself into this danger, what is to become of him? Dark and dangerous man!’ he exclaimed, raising his voice, I will not be again cajoled by deceitful promises’—

‘I give you my honour that your friend is well,’ interrupted Redgauntlet; ‘perhaps I may permit you to see him, if you will but submit with patience to a fate which is inevitable.’

But Alan Fairford, considering his confidence as having been abused, first by Maxwell, and next by the priest, raised his voice, and appealed to all the king’s lieges within hearing, against the violence with which he was threatened. He was instantly seized on by Nixon and two assistants, who, holding down his arms, and endeavouring to stop his mouth, were about to hurry him away.

The honest Quaker, who had kept out of Redgauntlet’s presence, now came boldly forward.

‘Friend,’ said he, ‘thou dost more than thou canst answer. Thou knowest me well, and thou art aware that in me thou hast a deeply injured neighbour, who was dwelling beside thee in the honesty and simplicity of his heart.’

‘Tush, Jonathan,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘talk not to me, man; it is neither the craft of a young lawyer, nor the SIMPLICITY of an old hypocrite, can drive me from my purpose.

‘By my faith,’ said the captain, coming forward in his turn, ‘this is hardly fair, general; and I doubt,’ he added, ‘whether the will of my owners can make me a party to such proceedings. Nay, never fumble with your sword-hilt, but out with it like a man, if you are for a tilting.’ He unsheathed his hanger, and continued—‘I will neither see my comrade Fairford, nor the old Quaker, abused. D——n all warrants, false or true—curse the justice—confound the constable!—and here stands little Nanty Ewart to make good what he says against gentle and simple, in spite of horse-shoe or horse-radish either.’

The cry of ‘Down with all warrants!’ was popular in the ears of the militia of the inn, and Nanty Ewart was no less so. Fishers, ostlers, seamen, smugglers, began to crowd to the spot. Crackenthorp endeavoured in vain to mediate. The attendants of Redgauntlet began to handle their firearms; but their master shouted to them to forbear, and, unsheathing his sword as quick as lightning, he rushed on Ewart in the midst of his bravado, and struck his weapon from his hand with such address and force, that it flew three yards from him. Closing with him at the same moment, he gave him a severe fall, and waved his sword over his head, to show he was absolutely at his mercy.

‘There, you drunken vagabond,’ he said, ‘I give you your life—you are no bad fellow if you could keep from brawling among your friends. But we all know Nanty Ewart,’ he said to the crowd around, with a forgiving laugh, which, joined to the awe his prowess had inspired, entirely confirmed their wavering allegiance.

They shouted, ‘The laird for ever!’ while poor Nanty, rising from the earth, on whose lap he had been stretched so rudely, went in quest of his hanger, lifted it, wiped it, and, as he returned the weapon to the scabbard, muttered between his teeth, ‘It is true they say of him, and the devil will stand his friend till his hour come; I will cross him no more.’

So saying, he slunk from the crowd, cowed and disheartened by his defeat.

‘For you, Joshua Geddes,’ said Redgauntlet, approaching the Quaker, who, with lifted hands and eyes, had beheld the scene of violence, ‘l shall take the liberty to arrest thee for a breach of the peace, altogether unbecoming thy pretended principles; and I believe it will go hard with thee both in a court of justice and among thine own Society of Friends, as they call themselves, who will be but indifferently pleased to see the quiet tenor of their hypocrisy insulted by such violent proceedings.’

‘I violent!’ said Joshua; ‘I do aught unbecoming the principles of the Friends! I defy thee, man, and I charge thee, as a Christian, to forbear vexing my soul with such charges: it is grievous enough to me to have seen violences which I was unable to prevent.’

‘O Joshua, Joshua!’ said Redgauntlet, with a sardonic smile; ‘thou light of the faithful in the town of Dumfries and the places adjacent, wilt thou thus fall away from the truth? Hast thou not, before us all, attempted to rescue a man from the warrant of law? Didst thou not encourage that drunken fellow to draw his weapon—and didst thou not thyself flourish thy cudgel in the cause? Think’st thou that the oaths of the injured Peter Peebles, and the conscientious Cristal Nixon, besides those of such gentlemen as look on this strange scene, who not only put on swearing as a garment, but to whom, in Custom House matters, oaths are literally meat and drink,—dost thou not think, I say, that these men’s oaths will go further than thy Yea and Nay in this matter?’

‘I will swear to anything,’ said Peter. ‘All is fair when it comes to an oath AD LITEM.’

‘You do me foul wrong,’ said the Quaker, undismayed by the general laugh. ‘I encouraged no drawing of weapons, though I attempted to move an unjust man by some use of argument—I brandished no cudgel, although it may be that the ancient Adam struggled within me, and caused my hand to grasp mine oaken staff firmer than usual, when I saw innocence borne down with violence. But why talk I what is true and just to thee, who hast been a man of violence from thy youth upwards? Let me rather speak to thee such language as thou canst comprehend. Deliver these young men up to me,’ he said, when he had led Redgauntlet a little apart from the crowd, ‘and I will not only free thee from the heavy charge of damages which thou hast incurred by thine outrage upon my property, but I will add ransom for them and for myself. What would it profit thee to do the youths wrong, by detaining them in captivity?’

‘Mr. Geddes,’ said Redgauntlet, in a tone more respectful than he had hitherto used to the Quaker, ‘your language is disinterested, and I respect the fidelity of your friendship. Perhaps we have mistaken each other’s principles and motives; but if so, we have not at present time for explanation. Make yourself easy. I hope to raise your friend Darsie Latimer to a pitch of eminence which you will witness with pleasure;—nay, do not attempt to answer me. The other young man shall suffer restraint a few days, probably only a few hours,—it is not more than due for his pragmatical interference in what concerned him not. Do you, Mr. Geddes, be so prudent as to take your horse and leave this place, which is growing every moment more unfit for the abode of a man of peace. You may wait the event in safety at Mount Sharon.’

‘Friend,’ replied Joshua, ‘I cannot comply with thy advice; I will remain here, even as thy prisoner, as thou didst but now threaten, rather